


all this bustle

by DizzyRedhead



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Retail, Christmas Fluff, Customers from Hell, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Samwell Men's Hockey Team - Ensemble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 08:37:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13163262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DizzyRedhead/pseuds/DizzyRedhead
Summary: Working retail before Christmas is hell. Derek is about to lose his chill.





	all this bustle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sinbindos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinbindos/gifts).



> For Plum, who has been writing lovely fic for Christmas that murders me with feelings despite working retail hell. 
> 
> I finished my original fic quota for the day early, so I decided to indulge myself with this little bunny that hopped into my brain before it grew bigger.
> 
> Title from "Silver Bells"

Derek wasn't quite sure how it happened, to be honest. Shitty tells the story like it's an epic worth of Homeric verse, while Jack sighs and shakes his head. The truth, as usual, probably lies somewhere in the middle. 

All he knows for sure is, sometime before he came to work at Game Village, a truce was forged. The guys working at Bespoke, the suit shop across from them were allowed to use the break room, with its much coveted toaster oven, and in return the Game Village staff could use the nice bathroom in the suit shop instead of the gross public restroom next door. A mutually beneficial arrangement for all parties involved. Not to mention the fact that the Bespoke staff were all very attractive people who looked very good in their suits. That was just a bonus

Of course, no one was taking much in the way of breaks, bathroom or otherwise, around this time of year. Not the week before Christmas. They all bolted their food like they were starving before grudgingly returning to the floor, waited until their bladders were screaming before maneuvering through the increasingly frantic crowds to use the restroom.

And really, despite the capitalist spending season, Derek is legendary for maintaining his chill. He can stay calm through frantic PTA moms demanding to speak to the manager and colliding with the polite Canadian wall that was Jack Zimmermann. No-good teenagers attempting to shoplift get politely but quietly blocked from leaving until they've given up whatever they have in their pockets, or, on more than one occasion, down their pants. Even screaming customers looking for games that have been sold out for months have yet to get him to raise his voice. So far, anyway.

But today--

Today, for some reason, he's feeling less than chill. He tells himself it's because the indecisive customer in front of him has spent the last twenty fucking minutes trying to decide which game console she wants to buy for her children. He's gone over the specs on each one, showed her the games available--hell, he's all but drawn up a comparison chart. Anybody would be frustrated by that.

Unfortunately, Derek tries not to lie to himself more than absolutely necessary. And deep down, in the most honest part of himself, he knows that the real reason for his frustration is that he might end up taking his lunch late. Store policy is that employees stay with a customer until their transaction is complete, unless the customer requests a manager. And at this point, Derek can all too easily envision this woman dithering until the fucking mall closes.

Which would be fine. If Will, the cute ginger who works at the suit store, didn't take his lunch at the same time every day, like clockwork. Which also happens to be the same time that Derek takes  _ his _ lunch.  

Derek knows it's pathetic, okay? He'd hoped he would have grown out of crushes on probably straight boys by the time he graduated high school at the very latest. But Will has freckles and he blushes the cutest pink when Derek says something suggestive and the well-fitted slacks, vest, and button-down shirt he wears as his work uniform are a thing of beauty on him. Especially when he carefully rolls up his sleeves, revealing muscular, freckled forearms. And when he throws his head back and laughs at Derek’s jokes--

Look, Derek is weak. Sue him.

The clock ticks ever closer to 1 and Derek pulls out all of the persuasive skills at his disposal to try and make the sale, all the while keeping an eye out for Will. Finally, after a small, endless eternity, the woman selects the Nintendo Switch--and begins the dithering process all over again, but with games this time. 

Derek gives serious thought to homicide, but he won't be able to eat lunch with Will if he’s in prison, either. 

By the time the woman chooses her game purchases and pays for everything, leaving with a cheery and pointed "Merry Christmas," that slides under Derek's skin like a sharp blade, he's pretty sure he missed Will somehow in the mad crush. He turns his register over to Holster with a sigh and trudges back to the break room, his stomach growling.

The room is empty, thank fuck, and Derek takes what feels like his first full breath since his shift started. He hadn't realized how oppressive the number of people crammed into the store was until he escaped. 

He pulls his leftovers out of the fridge, turning on the toaster oven and putting the egg rolls on the tray to warm up before sticking his lo mein in the microwave. There's a plate of Christmas cookies on the table with a note that says they're from Bitty, and Derek takes a grateful bite while he waits for his food to heat up.

And, to add insult to injury in this shitshow of a day, he inhales at the wrong moment and chokes on a chunk of cookie. He coughs helplessly, his eyes watering, cookie crumbs spraying everywhere--

\--which of course is the moment when the break room door opens and Will rushes in.

His eyes widen in alarm when he sees Derek--well, alarm or disgust, but Derek is definitely hoping for the former. "Are you okay?" he asks, crossing the room and putting himself in the crumb-spray zone without a thought for his snazzy work clothes.

Derek waves him off, trying to take a breath. It works, which is maybe the only thing to go right today, but he's not going to question it.

"Bitty's cookies tried to kill me," he rasps, holding up the remaining half of the beautifully frosted sugar cookie. "Just one of those days."

"Tell me about it," Will says, slumping into a chair. "I had this one customer who tried on literally fifty suits. I didn't even know we had fifty different suits. And I couldn't leave and I couldn't leave and I thought--" 

He cuts off mid-sentence, his face and neck flushing, looking anywhere but at Derek. 

It's dumb, it's so dumb, but Derek can't help the surge of hope rising in his chest. "Yeah," he says, trying to keep his voice casual but not entirely sure he succeeds. "I had one like that too. Made me so late I just got back here for my lunch."

"Christmas," Will says, like the swear word it is. But he still won't look at Derek.

If anyone is going to be brave here, Derek thinks, it'll have to be him. He resolutely shoves aside the unlikely disaster scenarios his brain is trying to play out. "I was afraid I was going to miss you," he says, his voice quieter, smaller than he'd planned. Being brave is hard.

Will looks up at that, his eyes wide and wondering. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Derek confirms, taking a step closer. "I like eating lunch with you."

"Me too," Will says softly, ducking his head. The blush has spread to his ears. It's too much. Derek shouldn't be expected to deal with this.

He takes another step, so close inside Will's personal space that there's no mistaking his intent. "Maybe we could have dinner sometime?" he suggests. "Just for a change of pace?"

Will's smile when he finally looks up is pretty much blinding. "I'd like that."

Derek can't do anything other than smile back. "Chill."

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone is curious, Jack is the manager of the game store and is quietly pining over Bitty's dapper blondness and adorable bow ties. Ransom and Holster were friends before they started working at different stores, which is how the whole mutually beneficial arrangement got started. Lardo rocks the suits she wears to work and Shitty thinks she looks amazing in them, but he enjoys the more relaxed dress code of the game store. Ollie and Wicks are the customers who hang out in the game store playing the demos and never buying anything. Chowder sells a lot of suits with his cheerful demeanor and is completely entranced by the way Farmer can beat him at any video game ever. The tadpoles and Ford are seasonal help.
> 
> If you like Check Please, random political yelling, hot people, and me being Queer and Done, you can [follow me on Tumblr](http://dizzy-redhead.tumblr.com)


End file.
